Claire woke in an unfamiliar place; it stunk of unthinkable things and was very dark. When she tried to move, she realized she was vertical, with her hands pinned above her head and feet tied together, only standing on her tiptoes, and she seemed to be against a wall. Suddenly, as she became more aware, she also became aware of pain. A lot of it.
Her head ached, and she remembered flashes of being hit with something heavy and cold, and everything in her body hurt, as if she had been beaten anywhere possible. More flashbacks came and she realized she was beaten, but couldn't figure out who had done it. As she tested the restraints on her arms, she realized it was rope, lined with something sharp against her wrists. She still struggled against them, but soon felt the warm lines of blood dripping down her arms and realized she should stay calm. The more she fought, the more it would dig into her wrists. The blood loss would make her weak. She had to think.
As Claire became tired, her head hanging low, she drifted off and on. She didn't know how long she had been there, or the last time she had eaten. She wanted to see her friends, wanted Shane to hold her in his arms and tell her everything was okay and that she was safe, but for right now, all she could hope was that they weren't doing something stupid.
Claire felt awful and filthy, the lack of sleep and food, making her weak and sick. She had yet to see her kidnapper, but couldn't call out, seeing as how her mouth was covered in duct tape. She finally had the disturbing realization that she was going to die here. How would her friends or anyone else know how to find her? Or anyone for that matter?
She would never see Shane again.
With those realizations, came panic and sadness and tears welled up in Claire's eyes. She sniffled, trying to hold them back and heard footsteps come toward her, she squeezed her eyes shut. The footsteps got closer and stopped. She opened her eyes and almost screamed.